


Garrett's Destruction

by conormonaghan



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, Exposure, Humiliation, M/M, Sex Toys, Underwear Kink, Voyeurism, Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-12 04:11:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13539444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conormonaghan/pseuds/conormonaghan
Summary: I found a tumblr user who flirts with straight guys and posts their humiliating nudes online. I submitted my best friend Garrett's name.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> You can read early drafts of my future work as they become available at www.conormonaghan.com
> 
> I also love to hear feedback.

Have you ever had a crush on a straight guy? Like one of those crushes on a guy that you just happen to spend a lot of time around, a masculine dude who is certainly straight and as a result there is no chance of anything developing between the two of you. Because he likes pussy. Like one of those crushes that is more of an obsession. Where you find yourself staring at the profile of his face when he’s not paying attention. Where you develop mental pictures of his crotch anytime you see the outline of what might constitute a bulge. Where you stare at his butt when he is walking in front of you or go home and jerk off thinking about that ephemeral glimpse you caught earlier in the day of his underwear when his shirt dragged up above his hips.

That’s the kind of crush that I had. The straight guy happened to be one of my best friends. His name was Garrett. I had known him pretty much my entire life. We started playing soccer together when we were about six years old, and when we were 18 we were still playing together. Well, we were up until senior year. I decided to quit the team senior year. He still played, though.

Our relationship was cyclical. We had always been good friends, but how close we were seemed to vary over time for no real reason in particular. But it was the kind of friendship where, when you do hang out, months without contact are forgotten instantly and things just click.

He was 75% of your stereotypical “man.” He loves hanging out with the dudes. He fits right in with any group of guys, the type of guy who doesn’t mind talking about girls and pussy and sex or farting in front of the guys. He loves sports—soccer, of course, but also track and disc golf. He is a food disposal. He is one of those lean guys with an ultra high metabolism. It isn’t strange to see him run to the bathroom to take two or three dumps a day.

When I say he was 75% of your stereotypical man, it’s because he was all jock except for the jock body. Don’t get me wrong, he was fit: he had the six pack and toned arms and legs, but he really was super lean. And pretty short. He was about 5’8’’, probably 130 pounds. He was also kind of brainy, but not in a nerdy way, more like in an analytical sort of way. He had brown hair, not buzz-cut short, but also not long. Green eyes. His face had some unique Eastern European traits.

He used to be a fuckboy, insomuch as any horny teenage boy is a fuckboy, at least in the sense that he would pursue women and juggle them at the same time when he could manage it. But he was the type who didn’t get tons of pussy, just some occasional action. The type who is actually reasonably sensitive and caring for his girlfriends. He was just a genuinely good guy.

He had been dating a girl named Sara for over a year. He claimed the relationship was “serious”, and admittedly, whatever hyper-masculine douche-y tendencies that he once had possessed were neutered with the progression of the relationship. He told me that he wanted to marry her after graduating college. I believed him. They were just right for one another.

When I say that I had a crush on him, I am probably using the wrong word. I didn’t dream about kissing him or cuddling him at night or spending the rest of my life with him. I wasn’t jealous of his interactions with other guys or his relationship with Sara. It was more like lust.

I could not stop thinking about his body when I was around him. I would try to mentally undress him, but I could never quite settle on what his naked body must look like. I would memorize the pieces I could see: his skinny toned legs coated in almost invisible brown hairs, his arms, his chest, which I admired at the pool or during the occasional shirtless soccer match. It was strange, because I had seen his body in mixed stages of undress for years when we played soccer together. We would change in the locker room side-by-side. He would stand right next to me. There he was, with his shirt off, with nothing but underwear on. I had every chance to peek at his body while we were changing. In the midst of my obsession, I craved even the most casual glance at his flaccid penis or his bare ass, but during all those times I might have claimed just that, I never permitted myself to take a look, because I was convinced that I didn’t care to see it. I was interested in naked girls. I hadn’t come to terms with the fact that I liked men.

I had discovered a box of Magnum condoms in his drawer one time just before he started dating Sara. I think that’s when the obsession started. He blushed a little bit when he realized I had seen them and I laughed looking at his stubbled cheeks, but then the cockiest grin materialized on his face. Like he was happy that someone knew his secret. It was one thing to brag about your penis in front of the guys, but to have one of the guys discover that the bragging was truth was something else. Except even then I doubted that he actually needed the Magnums.

Those types of unintentionally intimate moments were what I dreamt about that last year of school. Now that the casual opportunities to see him undressed had passed and I would never see his package in its glory. Instead, when I jerked off, I resorted to what I did have stored in my mental camera roll of Garrett: that cocky grin; memories of him in a bathing suit at the pool; shirtless when playing soccer with the guys; or a glimpse of Hanes underwear when he jumped to catch a disc.

In other words, not much.

I would fantasize about what his underwear looked like when they weren’t covered by his shorts. I knew he was a boxer briefs guy. I would imagine pulling down his shorts in class and leaning over and licking his bulge through the cotton. I would imagine his penis bulging in his underwear. I would imagine what his naked body looked like and what his penis tasted like and what his underwear might smell like. I would imagine riding his hard cock.

I also spent a lot of time browsing tumblr. I mostly used it to look at gay porn. I had recently come upon a page called *REDACTED*. The owner seemed to flirt with straight guys and post their nudes on the page. She/he/it would “expose” them. I ran across the page randomly, and though the concept seemed mildly fucked up, I couldn't stop looking. I checked every day for updates.

*REDACTED* took requests. You could go to the page and submit a social media link or phone number, and you might just wake up one day later to see a post of your desired boy and his penis. There were dozens of updates. Ex-husbands who had fucked over their wives stroking their little chubby dicks, muscle hunks showing off in public at the gym, barely legal kids in their last year of high school slapping their thick meat and bragging about how good they were in bed. It was always a straight guy who enjoyed showing off. I assume that they believed that they were talking to a hot chick. And maybe they were. Or maybe they were talking to a faggot who just wanted the world to see them naked. At any rate, it always seemed to end with the guy’s penis plastered over the Internet. Or more. The best posts featured guys who were willing to do more than just show their penis, guys who were desperate or horny enough to submit to whatever a hot girl/boy/person told them to do. A twenty-something young professional who sent his first picture over of him in suit with that intrinsic arrogance, expecting the person on the other side to submit, yet in the end it was him submitting, taking a full body nude of his hard cock and face before turning around and spreading his ass cheeks to play with his hole all because some anonymous girl was into it. And then his pictures were on the Internet.

Maybe the guy would have even liked it if he had known. Maybe he wanted it all along. But who knows.

After a few weeks, I requested Garrett. I’m a shitty friend.


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a new post of Garrett appears online.

I never expected a response.  ***REDACTED*** has tens of thousands of followers, so I assumed the page was flooded with requests all the time. Perhaps the owner filtered requests based on their own preferences, or perhaps some people offered money for some of the baits. Maybe eventually they would actually try to bait Garrett and fail, but I would have long forgotten about the page anyway. 

What I didn’t expect was to open up the tumblr app on my phone two days later and see a new post with his face on it. The photo was his profile picture, so I instantly recognized it. He had glasses on, which he wore occasionally. But there were two more pictures. The second was a shirtless picture of him. He was wearing black basketball shorts. No smile, not too much emotion. I had never seen the picture before, and I had seen all of his pictures on social media, so he must have taken it for the occasion. It was the first time in awhile that I had been able to stare at his nipples. They’re not small, but not large either. They’re the perfect size. His pecs are fit but lean. I wondered if he liked to have them played with. The third picture. It was a screenshot of a Snap. It was a selfie of him standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom wearing nothing but his underwear. Navy blue Hanes boxer briefs. 

For months I had been jerking off at night to fleeting images of the waistband of his underwear, to the tiniest hint of the cotton hiding beneath his pants, and here they are, and here his hand is, buried down the front grabbing his package and dragging the waistband down just far enough to expose the top of his brown pubic hair, which was more unkempt than I expected.

There was some text along with the Snap: “When do I get to see your tits?”

And a comment from  ***REDACTED*** accompanying the entire post.

**Garrett. Who wants to see him take his underwear off? Can we get 5,000 likes?**

I whipped out my dick and started masturbating to the third picture of him in his underwear. My eyes traced his flexed torso. I stared at the hand in his underwear. His pubic hair. His penis was right there, right in front of my eyes, so close. The only thing shielding it was the cotton of his briefs.

I shot my load in under a minute.

I was out of breath, but I cleaned myself up. Unable to resist, I brought the post back up again.

_ Posted 4 hours ago. 3,713 notes _ .

I ate dinner and fucked around for the rest of the evening. I checked the page every minute or so, unable to resist the temptation. The post reached 5,002 likes at 9:59pm. My heart jumped. I waited. I was finally going to see Garrett’s penis. But the update never came. 

I reminded myself that  ***REDACTED*** , whoever they were, probably had a life. They didn’t just have a countdown set to unveil right at the promised moment. It’s a Monday night. Give she/he/it a break.

It was a long night. I was too anxious to sleep. I jerked off to the picture three more times trying to pass the time. My brain was in a feedback loop. Check page. Check it again. No satiation. I don’t know when I fell asleep, but when I woke up on Tuesday, the first thing I did was grab my phone.

_ Posted 13 hours ago 7,979 notes _ .

No update. In fact, there was no update at all on Tuesday. Or Wednesday. Or Thursday. 

By Friday, I’d given up on it.  ***REDACTED*** wasn’t M.I.A., either. A half dozen new posts of guys had cropped up in the meantime. Only one of them appealed to me, a college aged skater boy. Looked about 25. Huge, thick seven inch dick. But I didn’t jerk off to it. I had kind of lost interest.

I shouldn’t have been surprised. Of course there was no new post, because there were no pictures. Garrett didn’t send pictures of his dick to a stranger. He never would. It’s Garrett. I had known him my entire life. He wasn’t that kind of guy. He was your typical guy, and he knew how to get along with guys, and he knew how to pretend to be masculine, a douche,to fit in, but he wasn’t actually one. He was a good guy. A sensible guy. A logical guy. He wasn’t a slave to sexual indulgence.

Plus, he was in a serious relationship.

Why had I let myself get excited?

Friday dragged on and on at school. Garrett is in my sixth period class, and we would always talk when time allowed, mostly about nothing. Guy stuff. Whenever he turned to watch the teacher, I would stare at his profile. That Friday, he was wearing a t-shirt and some blue jeans. He wasn’t wearing glasses. I imagined what he would look like right there with his shirt and jeans removed. I undressed him with my mind. Was he wearing the same underwear that he had on in the picture?

I asked him if he wanted to hang that night, but he and Hayden and the rest of the soccer guys already had plans to do something after practice. I expected an invitation, since I was also “one of the soccer guys,” but Garrett is also the kind of guy who can miss obvious social cues on occasion—like when you mention plans to someone and said someone isn’t invited to said plans and it’s fully within your power to invite them. But he didn’t. He can be naive like that. So I didn’t get one.

But we made plans to play disc golf on Sunday morning. He was busy Saturday. There was a huge disc golf course embedded in a nearby park within walking distance to both our homes. Still disappointed in the absence of  ***REDACTED*** updates, I vaguely hoped that Garrett would decide to take his shirt off when we went to play on Sunday. Summer was drawing near, after all.

I picked up dinner with a few friends after school and then texted Hayden to invite him to disc golf on Sunday. He answered about fifteen minutes later saying that he wasn’t sure yet, but he would let me know. He also asked why I wasn’t chilling with him and the rest of the guys. I replied that I wasn’t invited. “You know you’re always invited dude. We’ll probably chill at my place later. Come over.”

I didn’t answer immediately, but I tentatively decided to head over there in an hour or so. At the time, I was just sitting my lazy ass on the couch watching Netflix. I can’t even recall what show. I pulled out my phone and started scrolling through social updates. Nothing interesting. I realized that I hadn’t checked tumblr since yesterday morning, so I decided to pull it up.

There was an update. I scrolled down to see a long cock attached to a lean frame. A long, thick monster cock. Probably eight inches. There was a dense forest of pubes above the cock, and a neatly trimmed happy trail leading down. It wasn’t a dick pic. It was full frontal. The dude was hung as fuck. He had a cocky smile on his face, and his tongue was sticking out suggestively. His underwear were pulled down beneath his balls and clinging to his thighs. Blue Hanes boxer briefs. 

The dude was Garrett.

My heart stopped.

The Snap caption written across the picture read: “Tell me how bad you want this cock.”

I scrolled down further.

**1/2. Garrett and his big fat cock.  
** _ Posted 9 hours ago. 7,579 notes. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> You can read early drafts of my future work as they become available at www.conormonaghan.com
> 
> I also love to hear feedback.


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Garrett a second post of nude photos of Garrett appears online.

I don’t think I need to tell you what happened after that. I jerked off. After that, I jerked off again. Probably half a dozen times total that night. I never did head over to Hayden’s place.

By the next morning, I had returned to my routine, monitoring tumblr obsessively. There were no updates. But the picture of Garrett from the day before had almost 9,000 likes. It kind of dawned on me at that moment that a full frontal picture of Garrett was online. 9,000 people had seen his cock dangling between his legs. Scratch that, 9,000 people had “liked” it. No telling how many had seen it.

That was when the shock set in. I felt guilty for submitting the name of my friend to some anonymous tumblr user in hopes that I could see him nude. Then, I started to wonder why on earth Garrett would even talk to some stranger. How did *REDACTED* even approach him? Did she/he/it text him? If I had received a random text from some stranger, I would have blocked the sender. What if they were blunt and came right out and started flirting? Still no. I think? Maybe I would have responded.

But not Garrett. Why would he send a nude picture to a stranger? He wasn’t an idiot. Like I said, he has an analytical mind. He is logical and level-headed. Maybe the first message he received was a pair of nice tits. Would that be enough to deceive him? No, that couldn’t be it. His picture in the last post was asking to see tits. So something else drew him in. What was it?

Garrett had a girlfriend. Maybe that was the craziest part. Not just that he had a girlfriend, because guys around our age had girlfriends and cheated on them all the time, but that he was so serious with her. I knew for a fact that in the past he hadn’t been one to cheat. Don’t get me wrong, he had hooked up with a few girls on occasion when dating, but it was usually a drunken mistake at a party.

I had never seen him with a cocky smile like that one he was wearing in the picture. Actually, yes, I had. He was wearing the same smile the day I found the box of Magnum condoms in his bedroom. Maybe I was uncovering more of the real Garrett than I had ever known before. Then again, what guy doesn’t like to brag about how big his dick is when he doesn’t have to show it?

Except his dick looked like it was that big. Maybe he really did need those Magnums.

Or maybe he was intoxicated. Or high. He smoked weed much like everyone else, including myself. I could see a blunt making casual exhibitionism with a stranger more enticing.

Then again, maybe Garrett just wanted to show somebody his big fat cock.

I don’t know.

I lounged around most of Saturday morning. Jerked off a few more times.

I received a text from Hayden around noon. He was wondering why I never made it over to his place. I just said that I smoked and fell asleep. We met up for lunch with our friend Bryce and a couple of girls, Chelsea and Valerie. Hayden had fucked Valerie before. Probably numerous times. And he was interested in Chelsea, which, as far as I can tell, is why we were eating out with them.

I mentioned this, but let me say it again. Hayden was my best friend. Hayden was a fucking stud. 6’2’’, 180 pounds, blonde hair, blue eyes, muscular arms, six pack, toned legs, twink face. He played every sport—football, baseball, basketball. His primary sport was baseball, which meant that even though he was tall and built, he didn’t overdo the muscles. He was perfectly proportioned and hot.

So why wasn’t I fawning over him? I have no clue, honestly. I went through phases, and my obsession with Garrett was something new and inevitable. But whereas Garrett was your typical dude but not quite the jock, Hayden was the All-American Boy. He fucked girls. Lots of girls.

Unlike Garrett, I had seen Hayden in his underwear many times―at school, at his house, at my house, at our sleepovers, all over the place. He was a boxers kind of guy, but I think as we grew older he partially transitioned to boxer briefs. We had always been close like that, but much like Garrett, during all that time I didn’t realize how much I wanted to see him in his underwear. I wished I could go back to those days. We were still close, but only as close as high school dudes can be.

I also kind of thought he was gay. I had no real evidence, it was just a feeling. Maybe it was just wishful thinking. I just felt like I knew everything about him and I could make that judgment. But he had also told me one time that his dad mentioned in passing one time that if one of his sons ever turned out to be gay, they better also walk their ass out the door and never come back. At the end of the day, Hayden was the kind of guy who just goes with the flow. So, even if he turned out to be gay, I expected him to live a long married life in the closet.

I wondered what my parents would say if they found out that I was gay.

The day passed rather quickly. After lunch, we all went to the movies, and then Hayden, Bryce, and I went back to Hayden’s to chill. It gave the girls some time to prepare for the evening. We went to a party that night. It was fun. I hadn’t partied or even really hung out with Hayden in awhile, so it was refreshing. He was a fun drunk. Of course, he ended up in a bedroom Chelsea. I walked by. Chelsea’s moans were audible even over the noise of the party. Hayden was allegedly good in bed.

We got back to Hayden’s around 1AM and decided to just crash there. Four of us, Hayden, Bryce, another friend, Kyle, and me. We sat out in a circle on his porch and passed around a pipe.

Hayden was reminiscing about his conquest for the night. Claims it was some good pussy.

I took out my phone and absentmindedly checked tumblr. There was a new post on *REDACTED*. I was thoroughly sedated by the drugs and alcohol, but it still came as a shock.

It was Garrett in front of the mirror in his room. The same blue Hanes underwear were pulled down just like before, draped around his thighs, but this time, it was a picture of his backside. He was standing up normally and the upper half of his body was halfway turned around so that he could snap the photo of his ass. It was the first time I had looked at his ass. He had a small bubble butt, which seemed to fit his slender frame. His face was visible, but there was no cocky smile this time.

The text on the Snap said: “Is this what you wanted to see?”

Apparently not, because beneath it was a second photo. This one had no text. It was taken in the reflection of the same mirror. Except this time he wasn’t standing. This time he was on the ground on his hands and knees, butt ass naked. The Hanes underwear were crumpled around his ankles. His ass cheeks were spread and you could clearly see his butthole and thin hairs lining his crack. His balls and that huge cock were visible dangling between his legs. He wasn’t hard, but it was thick.

2/2 Garrett spreading his little straight boy ass.  
Posted 3 hours ago. 6,313 notes.

I was hard and dying to masturbate. But I was not at home and surrounded by a bunch of dudes.

There was something erotic about sitting there no more than a few feet away from my friends, Garrett’s friends. In my inebriated state, I imagined accidentally dropping my phone on the ground where the rest of the guys would no doubt glimpse the photo. What would they have said if they saw Garrett’s spread ass cheeks? Why would any straight guy take a picture of his ass? What would cause a sensible straight dude to get down on his hands and knees and spread his ass cheeks to snap a picture of his butthole. Why would anyone do that? Why would Garrett do that?

Because a girl told him to, I guess.

After a few minutes, I went to the bathroom and jerked off. And then again an hour later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> You can read early drafts of my future work as they become available at www.conormonaghan.com
> 
> I also love to hear feedback.


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I meet up with Garrett for a round of disc golf at the park.

I left Hayden’s house early the next morning, long before the rest of the guys woke up, partly because I had plans to play disc golf with Garrett later in the day, but also because I wanted some alone time with the latest *REDACTED* update. I couldn’t help but notice that it was the most liked update on the page, ever. It was approaching 15,000 notes.

It was also the most humiliating post in recent memory.

The situation seemed surreal. A month prior, I had never heard of *REDACTED*. A week prior, I would lay in my bed and masturbate imagining what Garrett might look like in his underwear, what color they might be, what his package might look like trapped inside of them. But suddenly, there was no mystery. I was staring at pictures of his underwear. I was staring at pictures of his shirtless body. I was staring at pictures of his fat cock and low-hanging balls and unshaved pubes. I was staring at pictures of his spread ass cheeks and his tight little butthole.

Had his girlfriend ever seen his asshole? Had anyone ever seen his asshole, save me and the tens of thousands of followers on tumblr? A man’s most intimate place.

Three orgasms later, my hormones had finally been neutered a bit.

I texted Garrett. I had texted him to confirm plans, to play disc golf later in the day, but we ended up talking back and forth for a bit. He felt the need to tell me that he was taking a dump. He told me he was planning on buying a new online survival video game. He was also hoping to swing some alone time with Sara in the afternoon. Her parents were gone. Guy stuff.

I also texted Hayden to remind him that we were going to play. It took awhile, but I eventually received a response: “Dude, I’m still hungover…” Followed by: “...but I’m down. I’ll text you when I’m on my way so I can figure out where to meet up with you guys.”

I knew I wouldn’t hear from him for the rest of the day. He wasn't going to show up. He can be flaky.

I threw on some boxer briefs, basketball shorts, and a t-shirt. I decided to walk over to the park instead of drive. It’s about a fifteen minute walk, but it was a nice day outside; 80 degrees, not a cloud in the sky. I couldn’t help but open tumblr again. There were no new posts. The last, of Garrett, had been uploaded just hours earlier, after all.

Moreover, what would have warranted a follow-up post about Garrett? Every inch of his naked body was plastered out there for any curious eyes to see. Where could his conversation (if that’s what it was) with *REDACTED* have gone after that last set of pictures? His entire naked body. His asshole. She/he/it had taken everything he had to give. Or so I thought, at the time.

I hoped he had at least gotten to see some pussy and blow a few loads in the process.

I received a text at almost the exact moment I arrived at the park.

“Changes of plans man. I can’t make it. Sorry.”

Garrett. It was strange to receive a text like that from him. The text would be commonplace coming from someone like Hayden, someone who is a flake. Hayden was the type of guy who didn’t even bother to let you know that he was flaking out half of the time. But not Garrett. I responded with a question mark, assuming that I would get a more detailed explanation.

At any rate, I had just spent fifteen minutes walking to the park and I was now stranded there alone, at least until I gathered up the will to make the return trek home. The park wasn't too crowded, though there did appear to be a few people up and about. I sat down at a nearby picnic table and texted Hayden again, not expecting a response, but hoping to waste time.

My mind was wandering, but my fingers went through the mindless motions: check Facebook, check Twitter, check Instagram, check tumblr. I snapped back to reality when I realized that I had received a direct message on tumblr. A direct message from *REDACTED*.

My heart and mind started racing with possibilities.

It was a link. No pictures. No words. Just a link. I debated whether or not to click on it. Opening random links from strangers, especially someone with the résumé of *REDACTED*.

I opened it.

It brought me to a website that I didn’t recognize. It was minimal, but there weren’t ads or any immediate red flags. A video started buffering. After a few seconds, Garrett appeared. I panicked. My first reaction was to drop the phone, but of course that was irrational panic. He couldn’t see me.

It took me a few moments to process what I was looking at. It was a livestream. A livestream of someone’s computer screen. Whoever it was in a Skype video call; or as far as I could tell, they were receiving a Skype video call from Garrett, but weren’t actually supplying video back.

Garrett was just staring into the camera smiling. At the bottom right of the screen, I saw the word LIVE. Was he talking to *REDACTED*? Was this really happening at that moment?

He appeared to be pacing around holding his phone, recording himself using the front-facing camera on his phone. I could hear a light wind in the background. I recognized a familiar landmark behind him, a disc golf goal. Was Garrett here right now? After he just told me that he couldn’t make it?

Garrett must have reached his destination, because he finally stopped walking and spun the camera around in a 360 degree arc, as if to show whoever he was speaking with on the other end of the Skype conversation where he was. I recognized the spot. He was on a small ridge with a picnic table adjacent to Hole 2 of the disc golf course.

The camera shook for a few moments and then stabilized with Garrett’s body in unobstructed view. He must have propped his phone up against a branch on a tree or something similar. The camera was facing the picnic table. The disc golf course was visible in the background beneath the ridge.

Garrett was wearing tennis shoes, black basketball shorts, and a cotton tee. He had a huge, goofy smile on his face. God, he looked hot.

“Is this good? Can you see me?” Garrett asked. He appeared to be squinting into the camera. He must have been reading text from whoever he was talking to. After a few seconds, he moved closer to the camera, though his body remained in full view. “Is that better?”

He seemed satisfied, because he stood there with his feet apart, presumably awaiting further instruction. Then, his arms moved to the hem of his t-shirt, and he slowly lifted it up and over his head and dropped it carelessly to the dirt beneath him.

His face still carried the same goofy smile, but I could already tell that his cheeks were flushed with light embarrassment, which he was doing his best to mask. He squinted at the camera again and then stood with his feet approximately two feet apart and his hands crossed behind his head.

He was exposing himself. I had seen his bare chest a hundred times over the prior few weeks, but there was something much more sensual about seeing it live, in secretion, in motion, on video. I can’t explain it, but it was erotic.

Let my reiterate that Garrett is a jock, but not your typical jock. He had a six pack, and I was staring at it then, in the video. His arms were toned, and his pectorals were so well-developed, and his nipples looked fantastic, manly but without hair, but he was so lean. Skinnier than me. And shorter.

Looking at him then, I realized that it was the first time I had ever taken the time to really notice his armpit hair. It was trimmed short, kept clean, but it wasn't shaven. There was something intimate about it. It was like seeing a symbol of his manhood. It was an aphrodisiac. I wondered what it smelled like. What it tasted like. Had anyone ever put their mouth on his armpit hair?

I snapped back to reality when he bent over and started untying his tennis shoes. He tossed them to the side near his t-shirt. He slipped off his socks and did the same. Then he assumed the position once again, with hands crossed behind his head.

What was happening?

“Do you like what you see?”

That cocky smile again. It had returned to his face. It appeared as if the front of his shorts was beginning to tent as well. He looked oversexed. Did he like this? Did he like stripping in public? Did he like being told what to do?

He inched closer to the camera to read his phone screen again. He laughed.

“I don’t know about that.”

He stared at the screen for another moment and then stood back up. He turned around and scanned the clearing. He seemed suddenly self-conscious. He turned back to the screen and stared into it. Then his hands slowly creeped toward the waistband of his shorts. He slid them down his legs and threw them on top of the growing pile of clothes now sitting about a yard away.

His eyes darted around once again. Still nervous. He returned to his position. He was standing upright wearing nothing but a pair of green Hanes boxer briefs. His hands were crossed behind his head. There was a huge bulge running down the leg of his underwear and his face was red with embarrassment.

He looked again towards the phone. Then scanned the clearing a third time.

He repeated his earlier sentiments. “I really don’t know.”

Then, “Promise you’re going to show me your tits?”

Garrett turned suddenly. There was a voice in the background. A group of three dudes appeared in the distance. They were making their way across the disc golf course below the ridge, and they were facing the opposite direction. After peering in their direction for a few moments, Garrett’s eyes returned to the screen. He smiled. His hands moved to his underwear, his fingers slid under the waistband, and then he slowly slid them down and hooked them underneath his balls. I figured *REDACTED* was satisfied, because his hands moved back to his waist. I expected him to pull his underwear back up, but instead, the opposite happened.

He dropped his boxer briefs to the ground and kicked them to the side.

I couldn’t process what was happening. Garrett was standing completely naked in the middle of a park with his hands his behind his head, so that she/he/it, not to mention anyone else standing on the clearing or looking up onto the clearing or walking along the nearby trail, could see him.

If anyone had bothered to look in Garrett’s direction, from the field below, from the clearing he was standing on, or from the dirt trail adjacent to it, they would have seen a teenager standing there butt naked with his hands behind his head, purposely exposing his huge erect cock, hanging down between his legs like a python beneath a forest of thick pubes. Let me remind you. Garrett was fucking hung. His penis was circumcised and at least eight inches. It was thick. It was the kind of think that necessitated heaviness, such that even when he was completely boned, his meant dangled down low between his legs from the weight alone. His balls were coated in short brown hair.

I knew for sure then. He wasn't lying about needing Magnum condoms. It was a monster.

He was too small of a dude to have a cock that huge. But there it was.

He was squinting down at his phone again, with a primitive confusion etched across his face.

He walked towards the camera and the frame started shaking. He had picked up his phone and he was on the move again. He held the phone out at arms length and above his head, so that whoever was on the other end could trace his movements. He was walking along the trail now. His cheeks were scarlet with embarrassment. His head rotated in mild panic, but the smile had returned to his face. His fat cock was visible swinging between his legs at the bottom of the frame as he walked, and it remained completely hard. He seemed to walk for a good two minutes, and the journey was filled with renewed dirty talk.

“Do you like this baby?”

“Do you like seeing me walk around naked? Do you want other people to see my big dick babe?”

Eventually, he stopped.

“Is this good?”

Apparently. He spun the camera around. He stood at a huge cock staring out over another ridge. I wasn't familiar with this one. Satisfied, he bent over and propped up the phone against something, such that the camera had a full view of the rock, perhaps the trunk of a tree or another rock. A few seconds later, he was standing in the middle of the frame, facing away from the camera. He climbed on top of the rock and bent over. His knees were at the very edge of the rock, such that the bottom of his legs and feet were hanging off the end. His hands were on the rock. And there it was again on display. His tight little ass was spread wide, and the camera had a full view of the almost invisible hairs lining his crack and his tiny little pink butthole. I recall thinking about how skinny his waist was for a jock. Tight little ass truly is an appropriate way to describe it. He looked ready to be fucked.

His hand reached back and took hold of his huge cock and started jerking it.

Suddenly, I had an idea. I started walking, thought my eyes remained glued to the screen.

I was incredibly horny, and the tent jutting out from my basketball shorts was pretty apparent, so I kept one hand in my pocket as I watched to mask it. I wanted nothing more than to drop my shorts and jerk it, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t whip my cock out in public to blow a load.

But that’s what Garrett was doing. And I couldn’t miss it. I couldn’t stop staring at it. That ass. The brown hair lining his crack. His asshole. The asshole that no one had ever seen, none of his guy friends, none of his girlfriends, no one except for me and 10,000 other people.

After a few minutes, I arrived at my destination. I stood and watched the video in the shade of a nearby tree. I had never watched anyone jerk off before, especially not from this angle.

He was stroking his cock his both hands now. Each motion was a long journey up and down that shaft. I couldn’t related. Mine just wasn't that huge.

I could tell that he was getting close. His asshole started tensing and puckering. Then his legs started shaking. Then, I heard his moan through the camera and saw shots of cum fire out from his cock and land on the ground beneath him. He shot six or seven times.

He was spent. After he shot his load, he let his upper body fall onto the rock and relax. He was still on his knees. He didn’t seem concerned with being discovered. His ass was still sticking up in the air, cheeks spread. His thick cock was hanging down, beginning to soften. I could see a strand of cum suspended beneath the tip of his penis dancing with the sunlight.

Then, the stream went black. *REDACTED* had ended the stream.

I gazed down at the ground in front of me. There was a pile of clothes. A pair of sneakers, some socks, a t-shirt, some black basketball shorts, and some green Hanes underwear.

It was happening right then.

Not far away from my position, Garrett was bent over a rock ass naked.

I bent over and picked up his clothes and walked home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> You can read early drafts of my future work as they become available at www.conormonaghan.com
> 
> I also love to hear feedback.


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